Some Days
by TheIllustriousMadamRed
Summary: Teresa is almost certain that if one of the criminals they chase doesn't kill him, she just might.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: The characters arent mine, but I am playing with them, you know, the usual disclaimer stuff ;)_

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><p>Blasted, Damnable, Infuriating man!<p>

Teresa seethes in her office, fingers clenching on the edges of her desk. A vain attempt to keep herself seated against the crackling sparks of emotions that threatened to ignite her.

Another case, Another moment where his defiant know it all attitude damn near cost her everything. Damn him for throwing himself headlong into the most dangerous situations without a care to how he'd survive them! was he that desperate to die?

He's outside her office, chatting and laughing with the other members of her team. As if nothing strange had happened today. As if he hadn't been held at knife point by the murderous duo they'd been trying to catch.

She tries to reason with herself, to calm the fear and rage that swirl inside her mind. It's his right after all, to act however he likes now that the situation is over. it was his life in danger. But no matter how much she forms the words in her mind she cannot erase the haunting image he'd made. His life in danger, the mottled silver pressed perilously close to his artery. The edge sharp enough that if the man decided to act, Jane would bleed out long before the ambulance could arrive.

She'd never be able to forget it, the bitter cloying taste of fear that had damn near choked her when they burst into the apartment. The way it tasted like ashes in her mouth, or the way heavy weights dropped into her stomach at the sight of him so close to being lost. It was only through years of training that her gun didn't waver. That the shots she took to save his life didn't go wide.

And when it was over? when she was sure that he was alive and not for that to change in the immediate future? When he turned to her with those beautiful charming eyes that fooled almost everyone else and told her that he'd had a plan? She'd nearly decked him.

She couldn't trust herself to speak to him on the ride back. In fact she'd barely spoken since they'd gotten to the office. Just left them behind to do their jobs with a few soft instructions that they really didn't need. She'd walked into that small little office of hers, closed the doors carefully and with that same deliberation drawn the blinds. Though she's seated her body hasn't stopped trembling, fear and adrenaline mixing with supreme irritation still bouncing around her cells like an overactive puppy. She should have been doing paperwork. But she can't even unclench her hands enough to pick up the pen. What if next time he isnt so lucky? what if next time he runs off scattering breadcrumbs to the wind she isnt fast enough to solve them and he really does die?

Anger and despair chase themselves around her skull, fearful thoughts mixed with vehement curses. She would find no peace here, not now, probably not today at all. But as she rises and pulls her jacket on she realises she still needs the reports from her team. She really shouldn't leave them another day.

Double damn.

Exiting her office was easy, pulling the door open without slamming it was a little harder. Shaking away any hints of anger was slightly more difficult. Especially when she saw they were chatting with him, all laughter and smiles and exhilaration for the thrice be damned conman, apparently ignorant of how close he came to dying that day.

"Rigsby, Van Pelt, Cho"

Her voice is snappier than she meant it to be. But she cannot apologise for it now, if she tried she'd lose momentum. And momentum was the only thing stopping her from falling apart.

"Where are your reports? I asked for them an hour ago."

Cho's smile fades and he returns to his desk, Rigsby and Van pelt both turn an flushed red and stutter out, "yes ma'am, sorry ma'am."

At least they had enough sense not to make an issue of her tone. Jane however did not seem to have such sense, "Don't mind them Lisbon, they were just congratulating me."

Her fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms with a sudden savageness. Like a child at a candy store his eyes brightened , "speaking of, usually you have a lecture for me after these things. I quite like them. but you've been unusually quiet."

She doesn't know how to take his 'I like them' statement. So she ignores it for now. and she doesn't dare respond to the challenge in his tone. Instead she snaps, "Have the reports on my desk tomorrow morning, clear?"

"Yes Ma'am" is chorused back at her, obediently. Without so much as a single glance at jane she turns on her heel and walks back to her office. Each step feels tight, her entire body is thrumming with barely leashed anger.

"Teresa? Aren't you going to take this opportunity to tell me what an idiot I am? you usually do."

Cant he just leave her alone? he's followed her into that corridor to her office. Logically she knows he's doing what he always does, pushing her buttons. But she can't do it today. She hisses, "Go away Jane."

"Ooh. That sounded nasty. What's bothering you?"

Punching Jane is Bad. Punching Jane is BAD!

Her fingers instead close around the handle to her office, taking comfort in the solidity of the smooth polished steel. For a second it grounds her, reminds her exactly where she is and why it is imperative that she doesn't explode.

"Lisbon!" his hand touches her arm and that moment of control is lost, "Fuck off jane!"

She didn't mean to say it, and she can tell it has startled him. he jerks backwards, eyes wide with shock, "What?"

Looking at him now she could feel her heart constrict. He was terribly handsome. Impish and delightful, true expression on his usually perfect mask. But still anger grips her, and makes her almost spit out, "Leave me be! You've had your fun for the day. Let me try and clean up the mess you made."

His eyes narrow suddenly, the pupils constricting to dark slits, anger on his face, mingled with confusion and shock. He growls, "You're being unfair."

Of all the accusations to hurl at her, that was the most absurd. And unfortunately it was what broke her last remnants of control.

"Unfair?"

Her voice is quiet. not the good quiet used in mischievous games. But the kind of quiet that just signals an oncoming storm.

She repeats, "Unfair?!"

Her tone is sharp enough that she is almost able to pluck the words from the air and wield them as a blade. Teresa turns to face him, no longer tight with tension but instead primed for a fight. her feet have planted themselves a shoulders width apart, her entire body is primed for that one push that would make it glorious knockdown powerhouse struggle.

"I'm being unfair? I'm not the one who ignored orders. Who keeps ignoring orders. Who neglects to tell this team anything after we stick our necks out for you day after fucking day. and I'm not the one who nearly died today at the hands of two psychopaths because I couldn't be a team player for once!"

She steps closer to him, her mouth has thrown her off a cliff and for better or worse she is doomed to follow this to the end.

"You put my team at risk. You put yourself at risk. We had it under control and then you threw all of that out of the window when you ignored us. You spout this crap about trusting us. But you don't do you Jane? no. you just pick at us for your own amusement. Like puppets on a string. Well this puppet is done dancing."

She has to walk away. on one hand she's so damn happy he's alive , so much so that she wants nothing more than to break all her rules and kiss him till she wipes that image from her mind. On the other she is so damn angry that he wont just listen to her for five seconds that her fingers are itching to land a punch.

Neither of which are appropriate for a workplace. So she pushes past him, not running away from this fight, her pride would not let her concede anything to him at this point. but rather a tactical retreat.

She's almost to the elevator before he recovers. Before she hears him let out the shocked breath he'd been holding. She stands inside the elevator, waiting for the doors to close. and then she sees him start to move, racing towards the elevator. With a cold stare she presses the close door button, hoping vainly that the doors will close in time to stop him following her here. but whatever providence had watched over her earlier in saving his life has left her to her fate now as he in a surprising burst of speed manages to dart between the closing doors.

She doesn't fear him. more she fears what she will say. The secrets she's kept wound around her heart, protected by a tower of iron and a fully loaded 9 mm pistol.

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><p><em>Authors Note: HI GUYS!<em>

_I am so very sorry about how long it's been since i've written something new!_

_I have a pretty good excuse though, i'm in my last year of Psychology and have spent basically all my free time working on my Thesis. but now that its done, I'm BACK!_

_So this is the first Chapter of a new story i'm working on. I hope you enjoy it ;)_

_As always reviews are always welcome ;)_

_Ta Ta For now_

_~ MadamRed_


	2. Chapter 2

So she stares resolutely ahead, determined to ignore him for this short trip.

"Lisbon."

His reflection is staring at her with half the intensity of it's real world mirror. But still she refuses to look at him. refuses to acknowledge him. it's the only way she'll get out of this with her heart intact. She's known for a long time what she's felt about him. known it the same way she'd known oxygen was a necessity of life, that water was without a doubt required for her survival. Her love of Patrick jane was an irrevocable and irreconcilable part of her. but she knew better than to think he loved her back. and for a time she had been angry and hurt and reeling. But now it was a part of her. Because it didn't matter if her heart was aching as long as she could still see him smile at her.

But now? right now she wanted to smack that smile off his face. she wanted to…to…

To do anything but be caught here in this space with the ultimate conman.

"Lisbon, You know I'll just follow you until you talk to me."

Almost childishly she continues to ignore him. refusing even to look at him. which for her was a rarity. Watching him was like sun to a sunflower, she couldn't help it, (though she was very good at disguising it).

How could he keep putting himself in danger like this? what if she wasn't fast enough next time? what if…what if?

What if she truly lost him? how would she cope then?

Sure she'd probably survive. that's who she was, a survivor. But she didn't want to lose him. she just couldn't lose him. and no matter what she did if he kept doing what he was, she would eventually lose everything.

His hand slammed against the wall, disturbing her increasingly maudlin thoughts, "Teresa!"

She snaps, "In case you hadn't noticed jane, I really don't want to talk to you right now."

the reflections eyes darken. But still she can't look at him. because if she does everything she's thinking will be all over her face. instead she focuses her eyes on the floor lights, mentally counting down the seconds to freedom.

Almost free!

And then she wasn't.

With a shuddering groan the elevator jerked to a halt, the ancient cables creaking ominously for a second or two before there was a loud crack and the elevator dropped a few feet. Jane crashed into her, the momentum slamming them both into the walls.

It was like a silly romance novel. The hero and heroine caught in a protective embrace. But Teresa Lisbon wanted out. she wanted space, she wanted to process everything and rebuild her walls and she certainly didn't want him this close after everything that had happened today. It would only make rebuilding her strength that much harder. But for all the reasons why she should have shoved him away, her common sense made her pause.

Because if the elevator was damaged or hanging by a thread, then moving about could very well trigger it to fall. Jane seemed to have come to that conclusion as well, he was frozen in place. his breath tickling her hair as he clutched her to him.

It was…awkward. And yet somewhat endearing.

"well. that was…interesting."

Jane let out a shaky laugh, "Interesting. Yeah. that's one word for it."

"Think it's safe to move?"

"probably not."

His answer was pretty quick. Which usually meant it was a lie. Which meant that there was every chance that Patrick jane wanted her in his arms. Of course if he wasn't lying and she tried to move away then she could send them both plummeting to their deaths.

Silence reigned for a moment or two. Long enough for her realise his warmth. long enough for her to want to sink into his embrace.

He spoke softly, "teresa. I'm sorry…about today."

She stiffens, lifting her head to pin him with her gaze. He stared back at her, eyes wide and open. And for the first time she thought she was being let through his mask. Intentionally.

" I'm sorry about provoking you."

She cannot bear his gaze, and she drops her eyes.

The fight drains out of her, and she murmurs, "it doesn't matter. You do what you like. You always do."

She doesn't mean for it to sound so bitter, to sound so defeated. But she's tired. She's tired of fighting him. she's tired of being angry and of almost losing him and chasing him into the darkness. she's tired of being the puppet he thinks her to be.

Her words have an effect on him, his entire body goes rigid, and she knows that if they were not forced to stay as they were, he would have been pacing. She is stiff in his grip, unyielding to the gentle warmth his body had provided. His breath was broken as he mouthed words over her head, the exhalations ruffling her hair.

"I…"

His voice is soft, softer than she'd heard it. and if she'd been standing away she probably wouldn't have. He seemed to be trying to think of something to say. She let out a bitter laugh, "Didn't think I realised did you? that we are all just puppets to you? marionettes to act in the ways you demand?"

There is no malice to her tone. In fact it's more hurt than angry. And he shudders, his arms gripping her tightly, "I never."

"never meant for us to see it?"

She knows her words are cruel. But instead of pouring from anger like before, now they were pouring from hurt. Her voice trembled, "it isnt fair. It isnt fair for you to do this to us. to treat us like friends and then just go off on your own and leave us behind."

How long would they be in the elevator? Why the hell couldn't stop herself talking?

Her thoughts were disrupted when he suddenly sighed, the embrace changed, a gentler more complete kind of embrace. But for the moment of his hands she was hard pressed to notice exactly what had changed, only that this was now far more intimate.

And her traitorous hands come up and wrap around him , holding him as close as they could.

"You could have died Jane. because you didn't trust us. you didn't trust me."

He speaks then, finally, "I do trust you. I trusted you to find me."

Her fingers dig into his back, clenching for a moment against the smooth satin of the vest, "What if one day I don't? what if one day I'm not smart enough or fast enough and you get hurt? How the hell do you think I'll feel then?"

Something warm trails down her cheek, and it takes her a moment to realise that she's crying. And as she tries to pull back his grip tightens, keeping her pressed against him.

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><p><em>Authors note: OH my goodness! thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, i'm overwhelmed by how many of you loved this :)<em>

_hopefully you guys like this new chapter, and have no fear, it will earn it's M rating in due time ;)_

_Anyway, please continue to let me know what you think, it brightens my day when you do ;)_

_Ta for now,_

_~MadamRed_


	3. Chapter 3

She's not sure how long they've been stuck in here. Long enough certainly for someone to have noticed surely? Long enough for the tears to have dried on her cheeks at least. He relaxed his hold, lifting one hand to cup her cheek gently, "Teresa, I-"

He breaks off, eyes wide with shock and fear, his gaze darts away from hers. Through their close proximity she can feel his heart racing, feel the way his entire body is primed for a flight or fight response and of course he'll choose flight. But there's nowhere to fly to, nowhere to run, at least for the moment anyway. What the hell could he have been about to say that would provoke such a reaction?

Her hand comes up, and in her head she's going to push him away. But instead her fingers settle against his wrist, a gentle touch against warm skin.

"Jane?" she prompts, all of the harder emotions gone from her tone. It's almost funny how quickly she'll switch into that mode, to turn from anger to comforting in a blink of an eye. he drags his gaze back to hers, and it almost seems as if he's steeling himself.

His eyes captivate her, instead of the good natured glint; his eyes are swimming in emotion. Fear, loss, doubt, they all paint vivid pictures across the lines of his eyes. But there's something else there, something bigger, yet softer than all of those dagger like emotions. Part of her knows she should say something but another part, the wiser part maybe, knows to just let him think it out for a moment longer.

The air around him almost crackles with tension, and she's drawn to break it but as her lips part in preparation he swoops in, slanting his mouth over hers.

To say she's surprised is an understatement. But it's almost as if her body has been waiting for him to make such a move, and so she kisses back, instinctively. It's not what one would call a great first kiss. There's too much emotion pent up inside them, clashing teeth and bumping noses, hands fisting in clothes desperately to find some leverage. Until finally they get it right and it's the sweetest kiss she's ever known.

It's not the first kiss that she'd wanted from him. But she almost prefers it this way. There's no illusion in it, no pretending. They aren't fulfilling any roles, aren't puppets dancing for an audience. It's just them. They part unsteadily, and she stares up at him. Up at the kiss flushed lips, the wide dilated eyes, the flush present on his cheeks. And the only words she can think of are_ 'Beautiful idiot.'_

After the day they've had, after the anger and the pain she's endured, he chooses now to kiss her? Damned if he wasn't the most mercurial and complicated man she's ever met. And she can't help but smile, and it's as if he cannot help but smile either.

There's a thudding in her ears, and it takes her a moment to realise that it's not her heartbeat. No. it's someone else, someone who has come to rescue them from this death-trap of an elevator. There are voices, calling out, but she's lost in his gaze. Lost in the way he feels holding her close, in the way the dim elevator lights cast shadows around them. His heart was racing; she could feel it through his chest. The rapid beat as his heart kept time with hers.

She should be concerned with what the others will say. What rumours her comrades might listen to and start. But she doesn't care. because for a moment at least, all is calm.

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><p><em>Authors note: Hi guys :D thank you soo so much for all your wonderful reviews, i'm glad that you guys are enjoying this story as much as i'm enjoying writing it :D <em>

_Sorry that this ones a bit short this week, i'm feeling a a bit sick i'm afraid._

_but fear not! i will make it up to you next time i promise :D_

_As always please continue to let me know what you think, it makes my day when you do :D_

_**ALSO like an idiot i may have accidentally posted this onto the end of dance with me. i'm very sorry for the confusion and i hope i've fixed it now**_

_ta ta for now_

_~ MadamRed_


	4. Chapter 4

It's strange.

She's still angry. There's still that pit of rage in her stomach, all balled up with stark unyielding fear. But the grip it has around her throat has eased somewhat. But when they exit the elevator and pass the wandering gazes, she turns to him, and he turns to her.

He holds out his hand, his eyes shining with hope and an awful lot of fear. She can tell how much the gesture has cost him. There are a million things she wants to say, a thousand different ways she could frame what thoughts flutter through her mind. But none of them will pass her lips. Instead she does the only thing she can.

She reaches out, and takes his hand; the delicate feeling of skin slipping against skin reassures her. as if in touching they've created a bond.

His fingers curl around hers, and she can't resist the sweet shy smile that crosses her lips.

"I'm still mad at you." she says, but the words lack the venom she needed.

"Understandably." His smile however is wide, delight lighting up his eyes. he is not repentant in the least. And she doesn't really expect him to be.

"This doesn't mean I'm going to stop yelling at you."

"I'd be disappointed if you did."

She's already falling. Whatever resistance she had before is long gone, what keeps her from him now is the fact that the others are so close, they could be seen at any moment. But even that logic is fading as he tugs her towards him.

His free hand comes up to cradle her face, and she sinks into the gesture. Its startling how much this feels right, how this feels as if this was what it was meant to be. He reads the surrender in her eyes, and leans forward, capturing her lips. unlike their first kiss, this one is utterly right.

There's no gnashing of teeth, no painful bumping of noses. Only warmth, only the soft taste of peppermint and some indescribable aspect that is just him.

It's almost indecent the things this man can do with his mouth. The way his tongue dances and twists with hers, mapping the contours of her mouth. But she is not idle. Her tongue dances with his, determined to learn as much about him as he learned about her.

Her fingers curled into his vest, part of her wanted to rip the damn thing off him so that she'd have access to his skin. But some lost part of her stills her grasp. It would not be appropriate to do so. though for the life of her she couldn't remember why.

Gradually she became aware of a desperate need for oxygen, and regretfully she broke the kiss, gasping for breath. He rested his forehead against hers, breathless.

"You know, you're not really making a great case for me behaving myself."

It takes a few moments to understand him, for his words to penetrate the pleasurable haze that has descended on her mind. "hmm?"

He chuckles and sweeps a strand of hair away from her face.

"if this is how you behave when I do something wrong, why on earth would I stop doing it?"

Her eyes narrow, and she watches delight cross his face, she pinches his side and he yelps "Kidding!"

"If you ever scare me like that again, I'll kick your ass myself."

He chuckled, a deep rich laugh that sends a thrill down her spine. It takes more of her strength than she cares to admit not to just take him home right now and have her wicked way with him. but no. they're professionals. They can wait…right?

But it was hard to keep her eyes from wandering. To keep herself from touching him, from tracing over his form with greedy eyes. it was as if admitting how they felt about one another had left her unable to muster the usual decorum. If anyone noticed they were at least tactful enough to keep quiet.

Thanks to the broken elevator it was dark by the time they managed to leave the office. They'd taken her car; it was faster and certainly safer than that thing he drove. Something which she was regretting now.

Fire licked at her skin with every smouldering glance she caught from him. His eyes wandered over her form as she drove, as if he could already see her flesh beneath her police wraps. A hot and heavy ache burned deliciously in her belly. It took everything she had to focus on the road.

Something which Jane was not helping with. he kept staring at her, eyes burning bright. It didn't take a mentalist to read his mind.

Every time her eyes flashed to his, muscles deep in her core would clench. It was a look she'd dreamed of seeing, but her dreams had been such pale things compared to the reality. Without meaning to she made a soft sound, and out of the corner of her eye she saw its effect. His body stiffened and she could have sworn she heard an echoing rumble from him.

It was then she realized that she really wasn't paying attention to the road anymore; it was far too dangerous to continue like this. With a barely muttered curse she pulled the car over to the side of the road, the sudden movement breaking the thick tension between them.

As soon as the car was safely halted she was able to turn her gaze to him. But before she could explain he reached out and caught her head, drawing her in for a kiss.

It was a hot possession, a furious mating of the tongues, hands sliding across flesh, seeking purchase. It was so, so right, but yet not enough. It wasn't what she wanted, it wasn't the kind of possession her body needed.

She broke the kiss, hands tight in the blonde curls.

She had to fight for breath for a few moments, as did he.

'Heh, Patrick Jane, speechless. That's a first'. The thought bounced around her skull, but she knew better than to give it voice.

He moved forward, pressing another kiss to her lips, she managed to keep it brief, breaking it only to pant out, "Not. happening. In. a. car. You. have. To. drive,"

He made a sound, a rough urgent sound in the back of his throat and pressed his mouth against hers, but this time she could feel the tension thrumming through him as he fought to restrain himself enough to pull away.

It was an unprecedented event after all, Teresa letting him drive.

Finally they broke apart, and he grinned, "I get to drive."

She nodded, unable to say anything else.

It took them a few moments to switch their positions. The process was somewhat hampered by Jane snogging the absolute life out of her again as they met in front of the car. His kiss was masterful, devouring, pressing her back against the bumper in a way that really should have been painful. But somehow it just added to the liquid heat swirling in her belly.

She finally gathered enough of her mind to pull away, though her body protested voraciously. He seemed in agreement with her body, preparing to swoop back in and steal possession of her mouth again. In desperation her hand came up and pressed itself over his lips, forestalling the inevitable kiss that would follow. He chuckled breathily against her palm, then in one deliberate move licked it. She yelped, and glared at him, "Really?"

He laughed again and obligingly pulled back, "what, you didn't want me to do that?"

She rolled her eyes, but refrains from commenting.

"have no fear little Lisbon, if the lady wants a bed, then a bed is what she shall have."

"Promise?"

He seemed to understand that this was a serious question, his face sobering for a moment. "I promise. No matter your temptations, I will restrain myself until we get to your place. After that, I make no assurances."

She laughed, and it felt good. A clean laugh that seemed to brush away any insecurities that had lingered in her mind like unwelcome cobwebs.

They parted, and she half scrambled to the other side. Lust making her movement clumsy. But, she noted with pride, he was having a little more trouble walking than he normally did.

This was a much better idea.

She congratulated herself momentarily. The ache inside was no less. But now she could stare at him, now she could let herself drink in the sight of him without worrying that she would crash them.

And not for the first time she was struck by how magnificent he was. The way the streetlights cast shadows upon him in the way a painter might lovingly add more shading to a beloved masterpiece. It highlighted the golden tone of his skin, and every so often they would gleam off his eyes and she would feel a thrill rush down her spine.

He was perfect. A creature formed of marble, once untouchable but now…now he was hers.

Hers to touch, hers to explore.

A wicked idea fluttered into her brain, and she whimpered. He growled, low in his throat, "not much longer."

But for what she was thinking, it would be even less time than he thought. She sent out one daring hand to trail along his slacks. He flinched in surprise, shooting her a wide eyed glance. But instead of averting her eyes or gazing back at the road, she met his gaze and grinned. She was sure he could read every licentious thought that was crossing her mind, particularly the one she intended to enact. He swallowed, and she admired the motion of his throat for a moment. It made her wonder what it would be like to press her lips to his throat and make him come undone. Would she be able to feel his pulse? Would those muscles flex against her mouth?

But she didn't move, not yet. He had to be the one to either tell her to move, or let her stay. She had to be sure that he could handle this, that he wanted this here.

He gave her a trembling nod, the tension singing through his frame. His eyes were a little wild, as if he couldn't quite believe that this was real. But he was letting her play, at least for the moment.

A wicked smile curved her lips, and she felt him jolt as the impact of that smile reached him.

It was strange.

She'd never felt like this before, like she'd waste away if she didn't touch him, if she didn't seek out his flesh with her fingers.

She traced intricate patterns on his thigh, her touch almost feather light against the dark brown slacks. It was a gentle motion, designed to lull him down from his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

Flatteringly she was very aware of the large bulge at the apex of his legs. The pants he was wearing were strained tight over his obvious erection. Once she judged he'd relaxed a little, she drifted her fingers further up. She fumbled for the buttons, carefully freeing him from the constraining grip of the fabric.

Huh. turns out her consultant was a commando man.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his knuckles clenching on the wheel once more.

She was certainly impressed. Who knew her irritating consultant had all this just waiting for her?

Her fingers traced across it, mapping out the sensitive spots. The spots where his breathing hitched and the muscles in his thighs clenched. Carefully she gripped the base, and watched his eyes widen. She gave only one instruction, "Don't you dare crash us."

"Under-"

His breathing hitched, and he swallowed before trying again "Understood."

At first she was slow, gradually acclimatizing to the pressure he found most stimulating, seeking out the ways to make him react. He was thick and heavy in her hands, like iron wrapped in warm silk. Glistening white leaked from the tip, and in one daring motion she licked it away.

He convulsed and whispered a soft 'Teresa'. But it wasn't an admonition. Instead it was filled with wonder and disbelief. She grinned, nothing like surprising him, and licked again. This time swirling her tongue around the sensitive head. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the muscles in his abdomen twitching.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she engulfed the head in her mouth. Still swirling her tongue around it, as if it were an incredibly delicious lollipop. He groaned, and one hand came down to rest in her hair. Not to force her to keep going or to take more in. It was more, she thought, for support than anything else.

She bobbed her head, carefully applying suction and pressure until she had him writhing in his seat. She became aware of the car slowing down, coming to a gradual stop. She'd barely noticed the change in directions. But she had no intention of stopping now. Not when she finally had him where she wanted him. His other hand came down, sinking itself into her hair as he groaned in pleasure.

It was taking everything he had not to thrust up into her mouth. She could see that in the way his body was so very tense. He was fighting to keep himself still, to let her play as she'd wanted to. Her hands circled the base of him as her mouth worked over the top. She could feel his body tightening beneath her, the tension inside of him building.

Her name had never sounded more beautiful than when he said it. But a very close second was when he groaned it. When he muttered it like a prayer as his body convulsed and she felt his seed flood her mouth.

When she finally pulled back, he made the prettiest picture. Disheveled hair, flushed skin, framed by sharp shadows and the dim gleam of street lights. A picture from her fantasies, an image forever imprinted on the insides of her eyelids.

He panted raggedly as she rose up. His eyes closed, trying to recover from the overwhelming sensation. She smoothed his hair away from his face as she waited.

Finally he managed, "That. Wasn't. Fair. Making. Me. Drive. And doing that"

She couldn't help but laugh.

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><p><em>Authors note: Hey guys :) thank you all very much for your well wishes and feedback.<em>

_I'm feeling a bit better now, if still a little bit stressed ;) _

_anyway, here's the new chapter, I hope you guys enjoy it, and that it makes up for the abruptness of the last one ;)_

_As always, let me know what you think :D_

_Ta ta for now _

_-Madamred_


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the drive was utter torture. Her skin was aflame, the barest pressure of her clothes was maddening. She squirmed restlessly in her seat, desperate for some of relief. It seemed as if the ride would go on forever, an endless haze of wanting and waiting. The memory and sensations of his responses added to her torment. The way he had tensed beneath the slightest touch, the breathy groan of his name on his lips. It was enough to drive her mad. And the bastard seemed to know exactly what was going through her mind.

Though he'd buttoned himself up, he still held that deshabille air, clothes ruffled, hair mussed. He looked like someone who had been thoroughly ravished. And oh how she had enjoyed doing the ravishing part. His long fingered hands gripped the steering wheel lightly, gentle but firm enough to influence direction and she couldn't help but imagine those same fingers on her skin.

And then he began to speak.

"That was a very interesting thing you did Teresa"

She shivers at the way her name rolls of his tongue. "oh?"

Her voice is soft in reply, but she can't muster the concentration to be irritated by that. She has a sneaking suspicion where he's going with this.

He nodded, a devilish grin painting his lips as he responded, "Oh yes. I think it deserves a reward."

She swallows, her throat suddenly dry at the thought of what he's suggesting, "A reward?"

His chuckle shivers her spine. It is a dark laugh, the kind of sound that promised wicked things in the dark. And she wanted everything that laugh promised. He murmured, "Yes. You don't object do you?"

Her body acted before her mind had the chance to form a reply, she shook her head a shade frantically. She was toast, absolutely toast. Because if there was one thing she had always adored about him, it was his voice.

Another chuckle, the flashing of streetlights passing by seeming almost perfectly timed to match its cadence. "That's my girl. I do so like it when you are prompt with your responses. You must be suffering so. Aren't you Lisbon?"

She probably should have been annoyed with his tone. But it was just the perfect mixture of gravelly and dark. Suddenly she felt sympathetic towards his earlier predicament. Her body was already burning, muscles clenching in search of some form of relief.

"How desperately you must crave some form of touch. My touch perhaps. The heat of my fingers on your skin."

Her world narrowed down, away from the movement of the car. Instead it was completely focused on him. She'd never had this kind of reaction to anyone before. It was painfully intense.

"Can't you just imagine it Lisbon? My fingers on your skin? Slipping across the surface, delving in and out of secret places"

She let out a strangled sound as she pictured what he said. She'd always had a weakness for his voice, and now he was here, whispering such delicious ideas into her ears.

He seemed pensive for a moment, then "I think I'd start with your breasts. I've dreamed of them you know. Dreamed of touching them, of tasting them. You'll let me, wont you?"

Again she nodded, body acting on behalf of her frazzled mind. This time when he chuckled she damn near convulsed. Somehow she'd known at the start of this that in his game there was no touching. At least on her behalf. She had to resist touching him as he had resisted touching her. But she wanted to. She needed to.

"Of course I couldn't stop there, could i?"

He seemed to be waiting for her response on this one. Patient as a saint, if the term could be applied to him. She chuckled a bit breathlessly, "Of course not."

She was toast. Burnt toast, his voice was wonderfully rich, slipping like crushed velvet against her skin. He seemed amused by her response, and by the way her eyes seemed unable to tear themselves away from him.

"There are many possibilities of course. But I think the one I like best is having you spread out beneath me. Can't you just imagine it Teresa? Tied up and spread open, at my mercy."

She could, and damned if he didn't fulfill this promise he was making.

"I could taste you then. Feast upon you for hours. Draw you again, and again over that edge until you thought you couldn't anymore. Until you begged me to stop in that beautiful voice of yours."

Her body was wound up, tightly coiled like a spring desperately awaiting its chance for freedom. She whimpered, a soft sound as the images he wove before her twisted her insides. Suddenly he turned to her, and she was captivated by the fierce fire burning in his eyes. The way they seemed to burn past any defenses she might have mustered, any doubts she may have had.

"But I wouldn't." his voice had dropped then, down an octave she hadn't thought was possible. It was a purr, low on the edge of hearing. "I'd draw you out again and again. I'd taste you until the world shattered and there was nothing left but us and the maddening sounds you make. The way you would whimper my name."

His name dropped from her lips as she leant closer. It was a plea for something, more than the words he'd wrapped around her like fine silks. Something real, something tangible. One of his hands sunk into her hair and pulled her close until she was but a hairsbreadth from his lips. His other hand however deftly undid the buttons at the top of her pants and carefully slid his fingers inside the fabric. He seemed to be watching her eyes as his fingers slipped past the thin fabric of her panties and brushed against her core. That first touch sent sparks through her. Fire and lightning under her skin. She convulsed at the pressure there, it was almost exactly what she wanted. Just a touch shy of what she needed.

He breathed against her lips, "And I will do all of that. Because you're mine Lisbon. Say it."

It didn't even occur to her to say anything else. She nodded against the tight grip in her hair, "I'm yours Jane. I always have been"

He smiled then, and suddenly gave her the pressure she was looking for. She sucked in a sharp breath and tried to remember to exhale as his fingers rubbed in exactly the right rhythm. Circling, twisting and delving into secret places.

The pressure he'd been expertly building for who knows how long now seized her as it shattered. And he lunged forward, mouth sealing over hers, drinking in her cries as she fell apart. But all she could comprehend was pleasure and heat. It was a brilliant blinding heat, a pinnacle of sensation her body wasn't sure it could survive.

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><p><em>Authors note: Well that was interesting ;) <em>

_I am terribly sorry about the delay, I've been swamped with Christmas preparations and all that other jazz :) it took me forever to find enough time to write, let alone get it to a state that i'm happy with :D_

_anyway, i hope you enjoy, and hopefully you all aren't *too* mad at me for leaving you hanging this long. I'll try to get the next one written as soon as i can but it probably wont be until after Christmas :D_

_Anyway, to all my wonderful readers, and to all the newcomers, I hope you have a wonderful holidays, and an absolutely merry Christmas._

_if however you are stuck with monster in laws and evil ankle-biters this year, then i hope you have enough alcohol to keep you sane ;)_

_Also, please remember to let me know what you think of my work, I'm hoping everyone is still enjoying it :)_

_Ta ta for now,_

_~MadamRed_


	6. Chapter 6

She came back to herself gradually. The way one awakens from a particularly pleasant dream. It was a feeling of dreamy contentment and a certain resistance to actually being woken up. Slowly she became aware of a coolness around her. Of a pillowy softness where the car seat should be.

In fact, according to all sensory indications, it felt very much like her bed.

A flicker of fear shot through her, eyes snapping open and sweeping across the room. Nothing indicated something unusual. Moonlight cut through her windows, casting across the bedroom and illuminating the fact that it was indeed utterly empty.

Had it been a dream then? A wonderfully erotic fantasy cast by her yearning mind for night time viewing?

It wouldn't have been the first time her dreams had felt real. Especially in regards to irritating consultant. She let out a sigh, resting her arms back against the bed. It appeared that she was alone. Some unnamed feeling choked her. Not just disappointment, but a mixture of misery and a healthy dash of crushed hope.

She allowed herself the luxury of biting out a curse, "Damn."

Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes, and she didn't try to stop them. She'd take this moment and be weak. The morning would bring strength, but for now she'd mourn it.

"Lisbon?"

Her heart gave a painful thump and she shot up in her bed, instinctively clutching the sheet to her chest. Because that voice. That impossibly wonderful voice. That was Jane's voice.

"Jane?"

Her voice was tentative in the almost oppressive silence of the room. Had it been a dream? Had it been a foolish fiction of a desperate mind?

A rueful chuckle preceded his answer, "Figures, the only time I leave that bed and that's when you choose to wake up."

She's almost delirious with relief as he steps back into her room, it had been real. He looked delectable here, in the moonlight. But even more so because he was real, he was here and it wasn't a trick of her fevered imagination.

"Yeah." She cannot disguise the relief in her voice. The unnamed feeling disappears, and what she is left with is a strange kind of happy fizzing in her stomach. He crosses the short space between the door and her bed, coming to a stop at the end of the bed and staring down at her. He cocked his head, and there was suddenly an impish grin on his face, "You thought this was a dream. Have you dreamt of me often Lisbon?"

She frowns, but she has to work at it. He's just so…so infuriatingly charming. And whatever he sees in her eyes isn't the reprimand she intended, rather it just makes his grin widen into something better. With a deliberate motion he undoes the buttons at his throat. It was a testament to the wonderfulness of his face that she'd barely noticed the absence of his vest. The cufflinks were already undone, all that remained was his shirt and his pants. The look in his eyes captures her, dark fire sparkling in the depths. The kind of smile people get when there are no more no's and only joyful exultant yes' to come.

"Let's see if I can live up to your dreams my dear Lisbon." He all but purrs at her. And she cannot help but react to the promise in his tone. Muscles low in her belly clench, creating a sweet tension that sends tingles down her spine. She watches, almost wide eyed as each button was carefully slipped free. His fingers are incredibly precise, but she can tell he's taking his time on purpose. She just wants the damn thing off. She wants what that tone promised her.

Another chuckle as he reads her frustration "Aren't you an impatient thing?"

She returns that smile and taunts, "I think you're just delaying Jane. It's sad really."

He laughs, and this time she can see the contraction of his abdomen and chest. The sight is fascinating, even as he shuffles out of his shirt. His hands go to the waistband of his pants and she cannot help but focus her attention there as he surely meant her to. In some distant part of her mind she knows that he's manipulating her. But the sight is such a welcome one. Her tongue darts out, moistening her lips as she remembers the taste of him.

"Shy?" she asks, her voice embarrassingly breathy. But the effect it has on him is quite profound. A shudder races down his spine, eyes snapping closed for a split second. He looked at her as if he wanted to rip her out of her clothes and just lose himself in her. It was a wonderful primal look, and it was all directed at her.

Pants forgotten he leant forward, tugging at the sheet she still pressed to her chest. Wide eyed she let him pull it away from her. It was tossed to the side, forgotten almost as quickly. With effortless grace he begun a slow sensuous crawl up the bed towards her. It should have looked ridiculous. It should have made her laugh instead of making her throat suddenly dry. He was a sleek thing, barely contained power, and she wanted him. More than she'd wanted anything else in her life. Instinctively she lay back, letting him situate himself above her, legs gently nudged apart to give him room to rest.

His hands rested beside her head, body still held aloft from hers, his presence damn near overwhelming as she stared up at him. Part of her was still in disbelief that he was here, that he was looking at her like that. A small part, the more practical part pointed out that they both still had pants on, if anything was going to happen it would involve some awkwardness to remove them.

And then he let himself rest against her, it made her breath catch as the weight of him was exactly where she wanted him to be. He leant down, and seized her mouth in a beautiful kiss.

It was a good kiss, heat and fire, pressure but not too much. Tongues dancing, slipping, caressing as they mapped each other's mouths. He kissed her as if he'd devour her. Her fingers twined in his golden curls, body melding upwards to his. Small eager noises echoed in the back of her throat, and he swallowed them before they ever left her mouth. This was just shy of what she wanted. The clothes were in the way, and she wanted desperately to get rid of them, but she couldn't bring herself to break the kiss.

Finally, the need for oxygen overcame them, and he pulled away from her as they both gasped for breath. She could feel his heart racing against her chest. The thudding as her heart met and matched his.

Once he regained enough breath, he spoke, "Say my name Lisbon"

She swallowed at the hoarseness in his voice, "Jane?"

He shivered, but shook his head, "My name, Teresa. Say it for me."

"Patrick." Her voice slid out of her, trembling in the air between them.

"We do this, there's no going back. No half-hearted attempts to forget. No regrets. All or nothing."

"Boy you do not know how to do pillow talk, do you?"

Her words amused him, but she sensed he was serious and still waiting for an answer. She smiled, eyes suddenly sparkling, "I'm here Jane. I'm right where I want to be."

The smile she got back was a brilliant one, shining and pure. The one she'd seen rarely, but usually were only directed at her.

"Then let's get these pants off you."

He rose up on his knees, fingers going to the waistband of her pants. Since they hadn't been done up again after the car, he had a much easier time of it. He tugged, and she felt corresponding jolts echo in her belly. She pawed at her top, she needed skin to skin contact. To feel all of him with all of her. She allowed him to move her legs to pull the pants clear. And as she struggled out of her top and bra he was suddenly back beside her. It was only then that she noticed that she was completely bare. But the thought didn't fill her with trepidation as it had before. rather she felt anticipation.

It happened faster than her lust addled mind could comprehend, but he was somehow suddenly nude and resting above her. she widened her legs, letting their most intimate places touch at last. The contact was electric, and she reached up, touching his face with her fingers. She'd dreamed of him like this, and from the way he gave her that not so secretive grin, he'd had some thoughts in this area as well. one of his hands trailed down her sternum, fluttering over her belly towards the juncture of her thighs.

With careful teasing touches he tested her, biting his lip at the slickness he encountered. Part of her was expecting awkwardness. The awkward real life fumble that nobody ever seems to write about when they talk about sex. But what she got was a marvellous caress and then he began to push inside her.

Sensations sparked across her eyes at his ingress. She'd known he was big. But knowing and feeling were two very different things. It was almost uncomfortable, the way he stretched her. but it was exactly the feeling she'd been craving. It was a sensation just this side of pain. But it made her wrap her legs around his waist, made her groan out a ten syllable conglomeration she thinks might have started as his name.

This wan altogether different kind of dancing, a dance as old as human kind. Of twisting reaching gasping sensation as bodies duelled with each other. As he moved above, inside, her she felt some large sensation begin to build. What she had felt in the car seemed smaller compared to this. Whatever this feeling was it wasn't the sweet delicious ache of completion. It was a painful primal feeling, a promise of shattering. Of coming undone, but there wasn't always a certainty you'd be put back together. She could understand now why people called sex a good way to go. Because this, this was so much more.

He muttering something in her ear as she gasped and writhed at his intrusions. But her sensation addled mind couldn't comprehend it. She kissed him, almost desperately as he brought her unfailingly closer to that shining moment. Whatever doubts or fears she had were gone. All there was, was him and her. Her head tipped back, breaking the kiss as she gasped out, his name into the silence of her room.

And she shattered, the pieces of her scattering to the wind as the magic of his body carried her through feelings far too intense to survive. The noises he made were music alongside the keening dropping from her own throat.

As she floated back down, she felt him bury his head against her neck, and murmur into the slightly damp skin, "Love you Teresa."

If she could summon any kind of energy she'd have responded, but the darkness took her before she could make the effort to reply.

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><p><em>Authors note: Greetings everyone! :D<em>

_so this took me a little longer to get out, I rewrote it quite a few times, but i'm finally happy with it._

_I hope everyone is well, and had reasonably awesome holidays :)_

_Anyways, i hope everyone is well, and as always please let me know what you think._

_reviews are wonderful things, and they always make me smile :D_

_Ta ta for now_

_~MadamRed_


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